Volunteer Roozbeh Chubak talks to another volunteer as Genevieve Ray, responds to a curious cat.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Volunteer Roozbeh Chubak talks to another volunteer as Genevieve...

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Shorty, a Chihuahua, waits to be neutered at the recently completed Dona Spring Animal Shelter in Berkeley.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Shorty, a Chihuahua, waits to be neutered at the recently completed...

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Elizabeth Roberts, a veterinarian at the Dona Spring Animal Shelter, examines a sedated cat for a scar indicating that the cat had previously been spayed.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Elizabeth Roberts, a veterinarian at the Dona Spring Animal...

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Kate O'Connor, the director of the new Dona Spring Animal Shelter, takes Greta, a one-year old German Shepard, on January 22, 2013 in Berkeley, Calif. The new shelter was the life's work of City Councilwoman Dona Spring, who died a few years ago.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Kate O'Connor, the director of the new Dona Spring Animal Shelter,...

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Roozbeh Chubak, of Berkeley, has a laugh with friend and fellow cat whisperer, John Popek, of Walnut Creek, as he pets a cat named Gobi at the recently completed Dona Spring Animal Shelter on January 22, 2013 in Berkeley, Calif. The new shelter was the life's work of City Councilwoman Dona Spring, who died a few years ago.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Roozbeh Chubak, of Berkeley, has a laugh with friend and fellow cat...

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Animal Control Officer Marcie Burrell, facing, hugs longtime volunteer, Nancy Jean, as Burrell's rescue dog, Harriet looks on at the recently completed Dona Spring Animal Shelter on January 22, 2013 in Berkeley, Calif. The new shelter was the life's work of City Councilwoman Dona Spring, who died a few years ago.

Photo: Sean Havey, The Chronicle

Animal Control Officer Marcie Burrell, facing, hugs longtime...

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Kate O'Connor, the director of the new Dona Spring Animal Shelter, takes Greta, a one-year old German Shepard, for a walk at Aquatic Park, which adjoins the new facility on January 22, 2013 in Berkeley, Calif. The new shelter was the life's work of City Councilwoman Dona Spring, who died a few years ago.

For visitors, staff and animals alike, that is the greatest achievement of the city's new shelter: the lack of yapping, and the abundance of wagging tails.

"At the old shelter, you'd see little kids running out with their hands over their ears," said DeAnna Dalton, co-chair of the Friends of Berkeley Animal Care Services, a volunteer group. "It looked like someplace you'd go to bail your dog out of jail instead of adopt a pet."

After 13 years of planning, Berkeley finally has opened its new animal shelter, a bright yellow, two-story facility with views of Aquatic Park and plenty of room for chasing tennis balls and snoozing in the sun. An opening celebration is set for Feb. 2.

The shelter also boasts an engineering feat that's likely to revolutionize the shelter world. Each individual kennel is enclosed in soundproof Plexiglas and has its own air-circulation unit, so the shelter neither smells like dog urine nor is a cacophonous echo chamber of barking.

"The dogs actually sleep all day," said Kate O'Conner, the shelter director. "They're not barking and agitated all the time. That makes everyone happier."

The air-circulation units also reduce the spread of infectious diseases, a chronic problem at shelters. Kennel cough, upper respiratory infections and ringworm are almost unheard of at the new shelter, O'Connor said.

The design innovations did not come cheap. The new shelter cost $12 million, about $5 million more than what voters approved in a 2002 bond. That's one reason the project lagged for so many years, officials said.

Another reason is that city officials could not decide whether to rebuild the old shelter - a 1950s-era compound on Second Street - or start from scratch. Once they decided to build a new shelter, there were delays finding a suitable lot and budgeting money to cover the funding shortfall.

Shepherding this process through Berkeley's Byzantine planning and budget processes were a pair of animal-loving city councilwomen, neither of whom could outlast the ordeal. Dona Spring, after whom the shelter is named, died in 2008, and Betty Olds retired the same year.

Olds, 92, continued fighting for the new shelter even in retirement, helping with fundraising and working with officials, architects and city staff.

"I guess I stuck with it because I'm stubborn" she said. "I like to see things through. Besides, the old place was so awful the noise about knocked you down."

She and Spring rarely agreed while they were on the council, but they both grew up on farms and shared a compassion for animals. When it came to making animal welfare a priority for the city, they put their differences aside, Olds said.

"Dona cared when no one else on the council gave a damn," Olds said.

The new shelter can accommodate about 60 dogs and 50 or so cats, about the same as the old facility but with more spacious kennels, rooms and cages. Every year the shelter cares for about 1,200 dogs, 800 cats and 500 other critters annually from Berkeley, Albany, Piedmont and Emeryville.

Aside from the soundproof and smell-proof kennels, the best thing about the new shelter is its clinic, O'Connor said. Previously, staff had to transport animals to veterinarians for neutering and other procedures. Now it's all performed in a spacious clinic upstairs, which reduces costs and simplifies tasks for staff.

"I can't tell you how wonderful this is," said Jane Townley, a vet technician. "There's less stress for the dogs and cats, which makes the people less stressed. There's no barking and howling."

Perhaps the best evidence of the shelter's success is Fat Cat, a.k.a. Blanche. Fat Cat, who is up for adoption, was the terror of the shelter, scratching and biting anyone who approached. On Tuesday, the portly, long-haired feline was a vision of contented laziness.

Instead of living in a cage, she has a small, soundproof room filled with pillows and fake mice. When a visitor approached, she barely lifted her head.

"She used to be very cross. Difficult to handle, is how I'd put it," O'Connor said. "Now look at her. She's settled."